turpentine
by matchboxcars
Summary: He doesn’t really know about the basement. She doesn’t know about his mother. They’re punch drunk on second hand stories of each other.


These days we go to waste like wine, turned to turpentine

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

_These days we go to waste like wine, turned to turpentine. _

_ Brandi Carlisle _

She is in a coffee shop, drinking tea. It's raining and the sound makes her miss Oregon, with its mossy mud and damp air that severed her lungs.

Elliot walks in. It's not a day off, but they don't have to be in until ten. She thinks Katy doesn't know this. She thinks he is worried about her. These days, he is worried about everything.

These days, she's finding it hard to care.

He sits down; he thanks her for the cup of Joe she bought him. She doesn't say anything. He stares at her.

"You sleep?"

"No"

"You try"

She sighs, look up at him, suddenly frustrated.

"Elliot, what are you doing?"

He shifts, defensive pose. He hadn't expected her to fight. Well, she is going to fight. It's the only way the communicate anymore.

"I'm trying to talk to you"

"Well, I don't want to talk"

His eyes squint. He darkens and hardens and now he wants to fight too.

"You know, Olivia, You're a piece of work. You don't want to talk, but the minute I haven't told you something, I've got a problem. Well, I'm not the only one."

He looks cocky and scared. If she wasn't so inexplicably angry, she would have given up on him right there, because she is tired of him, of his constant angst and his family, and his anger. She is just so goddamned tired.

"You're right Elliot, I've got a problem"

God she's so tired. All night at Rikers with Kathleen the night before last, and then last night trying to get the images of bars and guards and Elliot's baby in there, and Cat, herself, in there too. Cages. Men. Ringing buzzers and orange jumpsuits. She almost puked when she went into central booking. He didn't say thank you.

He is staring at her again.

"You need to sleep."

"You need to mind your own business"

"You are my business"

"You know, that's funny. That's a good one, El. Real laugh"

She walks to the bathroom, and heaves into the toilet. She hasn't eaten much. It's all water but she takes too long, and Elliot is leaning on the sink when she exits the stall. O

"What the fuck is going on Benson?"

She rinses her mouth and stares up at him. He's pissed. He is radiating anger and aggression and all the Elliot Stabler shit that makes him electric and dangerous.

His eyes are soft.

And she stops herself from telling him to leave because his eyes are soft. Because he isn't angry with her anymore. Because he has been through hell too.

"When did we stop – "?

And she stops because she is either going to cry or throw up again and she feels so heavy,

"Liv?"

Oh God, he still has her, he's calling her Liv, and that's enough. It's enough for now.

"I'm so tired El."

"Liv, you gotta sleep. "

He doesn't really know about the basement. She doesn't know about his mother. They're punch drunk on second hand stories of each other now, and somewhere along the line, that quit serving its duty.

She hasn't told him about how she screamed and cried and begged. He hasn't told her how he did the same thing. She hasn't told him about therapy, and he hasn't told her how Kathleen made him fall on his knees and pray to a god he thought he had stopped believing in. She hasn't told him how Harris buckled her knees.

"What happened in that basement?'

She can feel her chin touch her neck, she's backing away.

"El, please"

"Come on"

They go to central Park, sit on a bench.

"What happened?"

She looks at him. He isn't tense. He has his warm face on, and she supposes she is cold enough to reach out to it.

And when she's done, her face is all puffy and wet, and he look ten years older. It was never supposed to be her. In his head, he had it all figured out. It would be his daughters, his wife, hell, his aunt in Poughkeepsie. Never her.

"Katie okay"

"Yeah."

"You?"

"Never thought it would go down like that. Never thought it could happen, you know? Like if we loved them enough and worked hard, and kept them happy and safe, nothing would…She wouldn't…. I wouldn't."

He looks so old. She wonders if age is the price of love. He shakes his head.

"She did the best she could Liv."

"I know."

"I did too."

"I know"

He looks at her, meets her eyes. God, they are so old. They are so tired.

He smiles a little.

"We look like shit."

"It's been pretty shitty lately."

He breaks out his cell, call the Cap.

"Olivia is sick…Swear to God Cap, saw her puke with my own eyes."

She punches him.

"I'm going to take her back home, make sure she actually eats something…. Take the whole day? Don't have to tell me twice. Kay. Bye."

He smiles at her again. The warm smile. The nice smile.

" Let's take you home. You can have the couch."

She smiles back. Punches him in the arm, feeling a little embarrassed, like a kid playing hooky.


End file.
